Book Review: Ace and Proud: An Asexual Anthology

Ace and Proud: An Asexual Anthology by A.K. Andrews
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

In my 37 years of existence on earth, I have heard about women who are labelled as 'frigid'. I have heard of men who are disinterested in physical intimacy. But it's the first time I'm learning that they may have an altogether different sexual orientation, thanks to this book. So far, I knew of only two sexual orientations- straight and gay. This is the first time I came to learn about the "Kinsey Scale" which graded sexuality on a 0-6 scale, with 0 being fully heterosexual and 6 being fully homosexual. There's even an "X", which stands for asexuals.

This book is a project of AVEN (Asexual Visibility and Education Network), which was founded in 2001 by David Jay for asexuals. This anthology is a collection of stories written by asexual writers from around the globe. I got to know the nuances of sexuality, like differences between "heterosexuality" and "heteroromantic" or terms like "demi-girl" from this book. This whetted my interest in further academic studies on the subject of sexuality and I ended up reading some very informative articles in various websites. The book may not have great literary value, but it offers great insights into the lives and behavioural patterns of asexuals.

Sexuality is very much a part of our lives. I think we should all learn more about it as our views on sexuality are mostly restricted to socially acceptable norms.

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Book Review: The Train to Darjeeling & Other Railway Tales

The Train to Darjeeling & Other Railway Tales by Sanjoy Mookerjee
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

"The biggest organization on the planet, our own railway system provides the wheels on which the nation moves. Often referred also as the lifeline of the nation, the mighty railway system is the most powerful symbol of national unity and pride."

--- Ashwani Lohani, Former Chairman, Railway Board

Railway is the most common means of transport in our country. It's hard to find an Indian who has never travelled by railway, either for commuting to work or for taking a vacation. However, we are often unaware of the lives of the railway employees.

The author of this book, Sanjoy Mookerjee, was an officer of the prestigious Indian Railway Accounts Service (IRAS) as well as a railway heritage enthusiast. In his words, this book "is the culmination of anecdotes heard and experiences gathered during my long innings with the Indian Railways." Peppered with photos collected from the photo repository of the Indian Railways and illustrations and drawings derived from various sources, this book offers a delightful collection of railway anecdotes and at the same time, offers great insights into the working of the railways and lives of railway employees.

The book starts with the eponymous tale, "Train to Darjeeling" describing the author's journey to Darjeeling to take a vacation as a kid along with his parents. I experienced almost a childlike glee while reading about a kid's excitements while travelling by train. Then there are some really funny anecdotes like "Regal Encounter", "Who revised the Budget?" and "The first official journey". "The Tusker Regiment" warmed up my heart. In "Those Were the Days", he describes his training period as a probationer at the Railway Staff College, Baroda, now re-christened as the National Academy of Indian Railways. With the author, we also take a vicarious tour of the royal campus at Baroda. "Rescue" highlights one rescue operation undertaken by the Indian Railways during a flood situation in 1978 and the dedication towards public service shown by the railway employees during the difficult time. Then there are anecdotes related to Computerisation of Passenger Reservations on Indian Railways. After going through all these heart-warming tales, "A mother's wish" simply teared me up. The book ends with the tale of how the author's efforts as a Railway heritage enthusiast culminated in the setting up of the Railway Heritage Park at Tinsukia.

Overall, a pleasurable read.

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15 Best Books That I Read In 2021

I read total 40 books in 2021. 40 may not be a big number, but it's not a small number too. It is the highest number of books that I read in a single year so far, though some of the books were really short, like "The Almost Mothers" by Laura Besley or "Hannah and her Mommy" by Thomas Evans. Even the longest book that I read in 2021 was only 407-pages long: "Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen. I made an attempt to read a few English Classics, "Pride and Prejudice" being one of them. Though I liked "Pride and Prejudice", I couldn't relate to few other well-known classics like "Wuthering Heights" by Emily Brontë. Anyway, here I have listed down 15 best books among the books that I read in 2021.

1. "Pride, Not Prejudice: Decriminalising Love" by Tell Me Your Story

This book is a delightful collection of assorted love-stories from the LGBTQ community.

2. "Maybe in Another Life" by Taylor Jenkins Reid

It's the first book I read that explores the concept of the existence of a parallel universe beautifully.

3. "Dating for Fun and Profit: A Girl's Guide to Useful Men" by Cynthia James

Though this book claims to be a dating guide for women, it has an amazing feminist perspective and explains why men and women view relationships differently from biological and sociological viewpoints. Though it has been written primarily for an American readership, it's fun to read.

4. "Regretting You" by Colleen Hoover

It's a romance novel that didn't feel cliché like the Mills and Boon books. Rather, it was as riveting from the very beginning as a thriller. Two love-stories are narrated parallely from the point of view of two protagonists who happen to be mother and daughter. The ending was predictable, yet it kept me hooked till the end.

5. "Evidence of the Affair" By Taylor Jenkins Reid

The repercussions of an illicit affair unfold in this short-story. The entire book is written in epistolary form. Just when I started to think that the end is going to be predictable, an unexpected plot-twist took me by surprise.

6. "Serving Crazy With Curry" by Amulya Malladi

Peppered with mouth-watering recipes, this novel explores the relationship between three generations of women and a terrible secret that turns their lives upside down.

7. "Verity" by Colleen Hoover

Another masterpiece by CoHo. A sudden plot-twist at the end left me speechless.

8. "Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen

This book doesn't need any introduction. It's a famous Classic. Though it's a bit difficult to read with long, complicated sentences, but the happy-ending leaves the readers with a sense of satisfaction.

9. "Ahalya's Awakening" by Kavita Kane

It's the story of Ahalya of the Ramayana, told from her perspective. It's the kind of story that every woman would be able to relate to, even today.

10. "Dietland" by Sarai Walker

 

It's a brilliant book on body-positivity, exploring how women are treated unfairly and judged solely by their outer appearance in a patriarchal world.

11. "Where the Forest Meets the Stars" by Glendy Vanderah

This magic-realism book features the uncanny relationship between an orphaned girl and a breast-cancer survivor.

12. "The Queen of Jasmine Country" by Sharanya Manivannan

It's a historical fiction book exploring the life of Andal, the devotional poet of Tamil Nadu during ninth-century. Written in first-person narrative, it's a brilliant book.

13. "Piranesi" by Susanne Clarke

Winner of the Women's Prize for Fiction in 2021, this is a fantasy-fiction book. Though the first few pages are difficult to relate to, things get a lot better once you get the drift of things.

14. "A Mother's Goodbye" by Kasturi Patra

Can a woman long for a life without her children? Is motherhood only about sacrifice and unconditional love? Is there anything wrong with viewing our mothers as asexual beings? Kasturi Patra's debut novel raises a lot of such questions about motherhood. The plot revolves around three siblings, two teen-agers and an eight-year-old boy, raised by a single mother. After their mother's sudden disappearance, the teen-agers try to make sense of an adult world and earn a livelihood while grappling with their own sexualities.

15. "Mafia Queens of Mumbai" by S. Hussain Zaidi

This book explores the lives of some of the fierce women who left indelible marks in the underworld of Mumbai. While reading some of the stories, I felt like I was watching a Bollywood Blockbuster. Zaidi's graphic storytelling makes the book a pleasure to read.

Cover Image Source: pixabay

Single, But Not Sorry

Kolkata

9th April, 2017

Riya tried to open her drowsy eyes, pushing back the weariness bearing down on her as the early morning sunrays came filtering through the curtains of her bedroom. She missed the familiar beep of the alarm clock resting on her bedside table for an infinitesimal moment. Then the realisation dawned on her that it being a Sunday, she hadn't set the alarm the previous night. She turned over and closed her eyes again. But the recent memory of the previous day's team meeting flooded her mind. Realising the futility of the attempt to fall asleep again, she got up from the bed.

"Who's your In Case of Emergency person?"

Riya mulled over the trick question as she sipped her morning tea. Naveen, her immediate boss, had asked her the question in the team meeting. She was working in the creative team of an ad agency and considered all her colleagues in her team as friends. But none of them was her in-case-of-emergency person. She knew how terrifying an "emergency" situation could be and didn't like the idea of assigning that potential imposition to a friend. Her only emergency person, after the death of her father a few years ago, was her mother who lived alone in their ancestral house at a remote village in Malda, some 350 kms away from Kolkata. Replying Naveen's question, she just mumbled, "I have given these details to HR. I don't need to share that with you. Sorry." She knew she had appeared unduly cross to everybody else present in the meeting including Naveen, but she also knew that there was no other way to evade the trick question. She was 36 years old single woman, living on her own. And she didn't want to let others know how empty her life was.

The trick question had begun to seep in, however. It had become a trick situation. She didn't want to feel empty. Rather she wanted to make her moments, big or small, more meaningful. The longer she sat feeling sorry for herself, the less sorry she felt. It's called a reverse something or the other. There isn't time to get into that now. So dear readers, lets see how Riya dived into action to make her life meaningful.

Riya's diary

April, 2017

I am 36. And I am still single. It's not that I don't crave for that special someone in my life. I look for potential dates in Tinder. But none of my dates have culminated into anything fruitful till date. When I look at my own reflection at the mirror, I see a beautiful, voluptuous woman with long, cascading hair. Then why am I still single? What do I lack in myself? Am I not attractive enough? I feel unloved, uncared for. I want to be number one to someone other than my mother. I want to matter most to someone, to be their first phone call, the first person they think of. And I am not. In the last decade of my life, no one has brought me a cup of coffee, made breakfast for me, put a blanket on me on a cold night, buzzed in a delivery person, turned off the lights before bed, entered my front door using their own key. Because I am nobody's number one. I miss the small things that couples do for each other. I feel lonely on Valentine's day. During Durga Puja, I roam alone in the streets of Kolkata with no one to keep me company. Nobody ever thought, "What should I do for Riya for her birthday?" I am tired of feeling empty. And I don't want to feel empty.

Kolkata

14th May, 2017

Coconut and Peanut were sleeping blissfully. Riya felt a surge of love everytime she looked at the kittens. She had recently adopted them to fill the void in her life.

It was a Sunday and she had ample time to scroll her social media timeline. A notification popped up informing her that it was Shruti's birthday. Shruti and Riya were childhood friends. Shruti was now married and mother of two-year-old twins, Rahul and Rohan. Riya dialled Shruti's number to wish her on her birthday.

"Hello, Riya! It's a pleasure to hear from you after a long time!" Shruti's excitement spilled over the phone.

"Happy birthday darling! Wish you many many happy returns of the day. So what are your plans for today? Dinner date with husband or a trip to the spa?"

Shruti broke into a hoot of laughter. "What? No, no. Rahul and Rohan keep me busy all day. Now-a-days an uninterrupted pee is as good as a trip to the spa. Tell me about yourself. Are you seeing anybody?"

This question always vexed Riya. She wanted to scream that whether she was seeing anybody or not was none of Shruti's business. Instead, she said calmly, "No, I am not seeing anybody. Not everybody is as lucky as you. So how is your marriage going on? Does your husband still take his mother's side when you fight with your mother-in-law?" 

Shruti mumbled something about the children wailing and hung up. 

Riya's diary

May, 2017

Why do people always ask me whether I am seeing someone or not. They never start conversations with "how's life", or "tell me what's new", or even "how are you". This makes me mad. I want to scream at the top of my voice that my singlehood is none of their business. Even my mother accuses me of being too picky. Dear Maa, were you not picky when you chose your life-partner? Did you marry the first person you met? Or the first person my grandparents thought suitable for you? 

By the way, I feel less lonely now-a-days. I have Coconut and Peanut now to keep me company.

Kolkata

18th June, 2017

It being a Sunday, the newspaper came with heavy supplements. Riya enjoyed reading the supplements more than the newspaper. One particular advertisement caught her attention. It was about a women-only retreat at Rishikesh, promising to provide complete rejuvenation of body, mind, and spirit. This was exactly what she needed. She opened their website and booked her seat for September. She decided to spend her Durga Puja holidays at Rishikesh. 

Rishikesh

September, 2017

Riya had kept her kittens at an animal shelter in Kolkata for a few days and come at Rishikesh. Situated on the banks of the river Ganga, the retreat looked picturesque. Away from the hustle-bustle of the crowded markets, the Ashram stole her gaze. From the large glass-pane windows of the spacious Yoga hall, the surrounding mountains looked majestic. Riya was spell-bound. 

She shared her room with another woman, Sreemoyee. Sreemoyee was a doctor and she too hailed from Kolkata. She had worked day in and day out for almost a decade to become a paediatric trauma specialist. When she was in medical college, there just wasn't enough time to meet men. The few men she met, didn't make her feel interested to settle down. She too, like Riya, was a single woman. She was in her early 40s. 

Sreemoyee's smile was warm and inviting-- just like the cup of chai on a misty morning at Rishikesh. To Riya, she seemed like a butterfly without a perch. They discussed about a lot of things, like feminism, relationships, singlehood, books, movies and friends. Riya was thrilled to discover their mutual love for cats. They fitted together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. At the time of parting, they exchanged their mobile numbers and promised to keep in touch.

Malda

December, 2017

Riya had come to Malda to pay a visit to her old mother, with Coconut and Peanut in tow.

"Do you plan to spend all your life with these cats? Will you ever settle down or not?", her mother was annoyed.

"No, because I find men less affectionate than my kittens.", Riya retorted.

A few days into her visit, Peanut was seriously ill with a fever running 105 degrees. No veterinarian was available in their village. There was not any diagnostic labs. Riya was tensed, almost on the verge of giving up.

Sreemoyee saved him. She was up with Riya all night on call, checking on his temperature every hour, instructing her what to do, telling her not to give up. She consulted a veterinarian in Kolkata and advised Riya accordingly. Sitting more than 350 kms away, she hand-held Riya into saving Peanut. 

Kolkata

13th February, 2018

It was another Valentine's Day eve. Riya was in a low spirit. She too craved for someone to make her feel special. She had Coconut and Peanut, but she pined for the company for another human being. Suddenly there was a call from Sreemoyee inviting her for dinner at a cafè. In these few months, Riya and Sreemoyee had become good friends. So Riya was glad to have company. She took leave from the office early and took special effort to dress herself up. She wore a black dress with a chic jacket.

When she arrived at the cafè at the designated time, Sreemoyee was already there. She looked ravishing in her red dress and fiery red lipstick. 

"Hi! Nice to meet you Sree.", Riya said.

"Hello Riya. Please take your seat. How are Coconut and Peanut?", Sreemoyee flashed a beautiful smile.

"They have become very naughty of late. Always keep me on my toes.", Riya smiled.

A table for two was laid out, champagne et al. Sreemoyee wished her for Galentine's Day. Riya was surprised. She knew about Valentine's Day, but she never heard of Galentine's day. Sreemoyee explained to her that this was a day to celebrate female friendship. Soon an array of delicious dishes arrived. They both enjoyed the night a lot.

After dinner, Sreemoyee dropped her home. "Doesn't this feel like a date night, Riya?", Sreemoyee asked.

Riya nodded in agreement.

"Lets plan more such singles nights. Next time, you decide the venue and the menu."

They both giggled like truant school-girls.

Riya's diary

14th February, 2018

It's another Valentine's day and yet I don't feel empty anymore. Because I have Sree, a friend who accepts me with all my imperfections. I am not anybody's loving wife or anybody's doting mother. I am a flawed, messy woman to the outside world. Yet this friendship with Sree shields me from the harsh judgemental eyes of the world. We may not be in the same boat, but we are in the same storm. And if any crisis situation arises, we know that we have each other's back. I think I have figured out the answer to Naveen's trick question. I have found my in-case-of-emergency person here in Kolkata, finally.

Image source: pixabay

This story was shortlisted for the July 2021 Muse of the Month short fiction contest. Click here to read the story.

When Radha Met Rukmini

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Rain falls and ceases, all the forest trembles:

Mystery walks the woods once more,

We hear a flute.

It moves the earth, it is the god who plays

With the flute in his lips and music in his breath:

The god is Krishna in his lovely youth."

--- "Canons of Giant Art", Sacheverell Sitwell

Radha could hear the faint melody of flute wafting in the moist breeze. The melody engulfed her in a trance, once more. The heady fragrance of jasmine flowers intoxicated all her senses, once more. The ground beneath her bare feet seemed cool. Was it the wet earth of Vrindaban, drenched in the monsoon rain? Someone gently touched one of her shoulders from behind. The sudden human touch jolted her out of her reverie. No, she was not in Vrindaban. The cool ground beneath her feet was, in fact, the cool marble floor in the royal palace of Dvarka. The jasmine flowers kept in a silver bowl in one corner of the room rendered the air inside the room fragrant. And she was standing right in front of queen Rukmini, in her royal bed chamber. No flute was being played anywhere. It all seemed a figment of her imagination. 

"Please take your seat, Radha. I wanted to meet you in person. That's why I sent my most trusted retainer Nalini to Vrindaban to bring you here.", said Rukmini in her beautiful bass voice. Rukmini was, indeed, an epitome of beauty and grace. Her beautiful yellow silk saree and gold jewelleries only served to accentuate her beauty. "She is indeed worthy of being the wife of Krishna.", thought Radha.

"But why? What made the queen look for a village woman as ordinary as Radha?", Radha couldn't hide her amusement.

"Do you think that you are ordinary? I never thought so."

"That's not the answer to my question. Tell me why you summoned me here."

"Actually I wanted to meet you in person. I want to see what you have that I lack. I want to know why my husband is still in love with you."

Radha cackled. "So you think that your husband loves me. I never thought so. I always thought that my love for him was one-sided. While I loved him, he took it only as flirtation. And apart from me, he had all the gopis of Vrindaban to engage in such inane flirtations. None of it was love."

"That's not true. I don't exactly know what was there between the two of you, but surely it was not something as innocuous as flirtation, at least not for him."

Radha's mind drifted to her days of yore. "Do you know Rukmini that I was already married when I first met him? I was married off to Abhimanyu at a tender age. At that time, I didn't even know the full import of the words 'marriage' or 'husband'. But I failed to love Abhimanyu. He turned out to be an impotent man and consequently our marriage was never consummated. I accepted everything with equanimity as my destiny. And then I met him - Krishna.

It was a rainy and stormy night in the month of Ashada. Dark clouds hovered in the sky. I had come to Nand's residence to pay him a visit that afternoon when the rains started. Nand was very worried as his son had not returned home till then. He asked me to take him home. Krishna was younger than me. Young and naïve. I found him standing under a large tamal tree, shivering in the rain. I held his hand and took him home. The road was dark, with only lightning to illuminate the road every now and then. That day when I held his hand, I felt the surge of a strange emotion inside me - something which I had never felt before. Perhaps that was what poets called as 'love'.

Monsoon made way for the autumn. Then came winter. Finally it was spring. The tamal tree was no longer dark, but instead was adorned with yellow flowers. There was a riot of colours everywhere, with so many flowers blossoming - bakula, kimshuka, kesara, madhavika. The fragrant southern wind was intoxicating. My love for Krishna had intensified by then. But I found him flirting with all the other gopis. I was jealous. I thought he belonged to me only - my man. But how wrong I was. I still had a lot to learn about men and the position of privilege they were entitled to.

Finally when he left for Mathura, I was devastated. He besmirched my reputation. Everybody in Vrindaban gossiped about me. What kind of a woman longs for a man other than her husband! While I silently suffered the pangs of separation, these gossips made my life even more miserable. My life was ruined for ever. But I didn't commit suicide. Neither did I run to Mathura to beg for his love."

"Then what did you do, Radha? Life must have been hard for you."

"Yes, that's true. Nothing was left for me in Vrindaban any more. The only man I loved had abandoned me. I never knew the joys of motherhood. So I decided to live for myself. I adorned my eyes with kajal, applied a kasturi tilak to my forehead, painted a saubhagya bindu with kumkum, rearranged my tresses and put flowers in my braid. Then I went to the bank of river Yamuna and looked at my own reflection in the placid water of the river. I looked beautiful, even divine. I fell in love with myself. I smiled after a long time.

Krishna is an intelligent man, no doubt. While he will leave his own philosophy for posterity, my life will remind women of generations to come that a woman doesn't need a man to live her life. A woman can not only live, but also thrive without a man."

"Did you ever harbour any desire to marry him?"

"Not at all. I never wanted to become one among his many wives and be happy with the crumbs of his love that each of his wife is entitled to. To me, my self-respect and independence are way more precious than the love of a man."

Now Rukmini understood what made Radha stand apart from others.

"Now grant me permission to leave. It's almost evening. I think your husband will return from his royal court any time. I don't want him to know of my arrival."

Radha left. Only the sound of her anklets echoed long in the royal palace of Dvarka.

Image source: Flickr

This post titled "When Rukmini Asked Radha The Secret Of What Made her So Special" has been published on Women's Web as a Featured Post. Featured Posts are a careful selection of highly relevant and interesting posts picked up by the editor's of Women's Web each day. To read the full story, Click here.

Can Your Son Cook?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday

"Kolkata based Bengali Girl, 30, 5'6", B.Tech (IIT), MBA (Finance) from IIM, working in Banking Sector & settled in Mumbai. Pck- 20 lakh p.a. Healthy habits, both parents Doctors. Looking for a presentable, cultured, educated boy with strong family values, non-manglik, 28-32 yrs, siblings must. MA/MSc preferred, healthy habits only. Caste No Bar. No Dowry. Reply with recent coloured photograph and other details to xxxxxxxx@gmail.com. M-xxxxxxxxxx"

Dasharath circled the ad with his red gel pen. This has become almost a ritual for him now. This scanning of the Matrimonial column of the Sunday newspaper. He goes through every single advertisement that appears under the heading of "Wanted Grooms". After meticulously reading each of them, he circles those advertisements which he finds appropriate for his son Raghav. During Sunday evenings, after waking up from his afternoon siesta and going through the ritual of making elaichi tea for everyone in his family and serving them the tea with biscuits of their choice, he sits down with his mobile phone and the Sunday newspaper. He then calls the parents of prospective brides, one after another, as he goes down the red-marked list of brides. Some parents of highly educated and established brides don't publish their mobile numbers fearing the incessant phone calls they might receive from the parents of prospective grooms. In those cases, Dasharath sends them his son's biodata and some recent photographs via e-mail. Dasharath who was technically unsound and didn't know how to send an e-mail until recently had to learn to make his own e-mail id and use the e-mail app for the sake of his son's marriage. Any parent of sons of marriageable age can imagine his agony. After all, who doesn't want to see their children settled and happy, leading a fulfilling family life.

"Hello".

"Hello. Myself Dasharath Chakraborty. I suppose you have given an ad in search of a groom in today's newspaper."

"Oh, yes. Are you the groom himself or his father?"

"I am the groom's father."

"And I am Sunaina, the bride's mother. Hope you have gone through the advertisement and I suppose your son meets all the criterion mentioned there."

"Sure. He is 28 years, has done MA in English followed by B.Ed. He is currently working as a teacher in a local school."

"Then I am sorry. He doesn't fulfill our criterion. We are looking for a non-working boy. Someone who'll be able to look after his family, who'll prioritize family over and above his career. Actually our daughter has quite a hectic schedule as an investment banker. She doesn't need any more earning member in her family. Janki's father is also a doctor. He was my classmate in Medical College. But when Janki was born, he sacrificed his career at the altar of family. That's how much we value family. We mentioned the educational criterion in the ad just because of the fact that we think an educated son-in-law would be able to help in his children's home-works in future."

"That's not a problem at all. My son is very obedient. We have tried to inculcate the values of family in him since childhood. He is willing to quit his job if need arises."

"Then we can proceed to discuss further. What's his complexion? Is he fair? Listen, I am not going to accept anyone other than a fair-skinned boy as my son-in-law. All I want is fair grandchildren."

"Yes, of course, he is very fair and handsome. He won the title of 'Mr. Fresher' when he was in the first year of college."

"And what is his mother's occupation?"

"She retired from a senior position in a reputed MNC."

"By the way, what is your son's name?"

"Raghav."

"Does he have any siblings? This is a must, as I have mentioned in the ad. I don't want my son-in-law to frequently visit his father's house in the pretext of looking after them during old age and neglecting his own household duties."

"Yes, we have a daughter too. She is in college."

"Since your son fulfills all the preliminary criterion, I'd request you to send a couple of his recent photographs in the e-mail id given in the ad. I have already got 100 calls from parents of prospective grooms since morning. You are 101. My daughter will scrutinise all the photographs and bio-datas and select her groom herself. I'll get back to you if your son is shortlisted. Bye for now."

Next Sunday

"Hello."

"Hello Mrs. Sunaina. I am happy to hear from you."

"There's a good news for you. My daughter has short-listed 10 boys out of total 153 calls received. You are lucky that your son is one among these ten."

"That's great. So what's next?"

"We are planning to visit all the ten boys one by one. Since I am very busy with my chamber and nursing-home, I can only spare the Sunday for this groom-viewing. We'll visit three grooms on two consecutive Sundays and four on the last Sunday. This way it'll take less time. I'd like to visit your home and meet your son next Sunday at 6 O'clock. Janki's father will also accompany me."

"Please come. Also make sure that Janki also comes. After all, it's she who'll marry Raghav. So it's important for them to meet."

"I am sorry but Janki will not be able to come this time. She is super busy and has only a day off on Sundays. So she doesn't like to go anywhere on Sundays. So we'll visit only. Janki will meet the boy who'll be selected finally by us."

"Oh."

"One more thing, we'll stay only for an hour. After that we'll have to visit two more grooms. So make sure that Raghav is present at the home at the designated time. Bye."

"Bye. Take care."

Next Sunday Morning

"Raghav, please apply this turmeric and sandalwood paste on your face. Today one bride's parents are coming in the evening to meet you. You must look your best."

"Please, father. I am tired of this groom-viewing sessions. And in any case, I am not going to apply anything on my face. I am happy with myself. I don't need to preen myself for anybody's approval."

"Don't talk like a fool. You are 28 years already and all your friends are married. And I am not even having proper sleep at night thinking about your marriage. This girl is educated, well-established. I don't want to lose this golden opportunity. And please don't wear this cheap t-shirt in front of the girl's parents. I have already ironed your kurta and pajama. Make sure to wear those in the evening."

Sunday Evening

 

"So Raghav, can you cook?"

"Yes, but only the basics."

"Our daughter is a glutton. Make sure to learn some special recipes before marriage."

"I'll try."

"You told us that you know basic cooking. Now tell me, which specific spices are required to cook mutton rezala? Our Janki loves mutton."

"Umm.... onion paste, ginger and garlic paste, bay leaves, dry red chillies, whole black peppercorns, cinnamon stick, clove, cardamom.... umm...."

"You forgot to mention mace (Javitri). And please don't use red chillies in any dish you cook for our dear Janki. Red chillies don't suit her. You can add green chillies instead."

"I'll remember."

"Now tell me, do you like us? If you get married to Janki, we'll be your parents-in-law. Will you be able to live with us and treat us as your own parents?"

Raghav nodded his head in approval.

"Good. Mr. Chakraborty, we have to leave now. We still need to visit two more boys. I'll get back to you if your son is finally selected."

"Please have some sweets before you leave."

"No, no. We are running short of time."

"Please, I request. At least have the samosas. Raghav himself has prepared these samosas."

Another Sunday, After three weeks....

 

"Hello, Mrs. Sunaina. What a pleasant surprise."

"Congratulations, Mr. Chakraborty. Your son has been selected as the groom-to-be. Next Sunday, Janki will visit your place with her friends to meet Raghav. At 7 O'clock in the evening."

Next Sunday Evening

 

"So you are Raghav. Nice to meet you. I am Janki."

"Namaskar", Raghav joined his palms to greet Janki and her accomplices.

"Suddha desi groom", one of Janki's friends chimed in.

"Stop it, Urmila", Janki rolled her eyes in mock exasperation.

"Achcha, achcha. But Mr. Raghav, you'll have to shave your moustache. Our Janki doesn't like men with moustache.", another commented.

"Mandavi is right. Please shave it before marriage."

"I'll."

"And remember one thing. We are going to be your adhi gharwali. Next time we visit Janki's place, you'll have to cook something delicious for us jiju."

Sunday Night

 

"Hello"

"Hello, Mr. Chakraborty. Janki says she liked meeting Raghav. Though she wishes to meet him alone before taking the final decision. Now-a-days so many marriages are ending in divorce. So Janki doesn't want to take any risk. She wants to make sure that her groom is subservient and willing to go that extra mile for the sake of marriage."

"Ok. No problem from our side."

"So Janki has told me that she'd like to meet Raghav at 'Blue Lotus' Cafe next Sunday at 5 O'clock. Tell Raghav to arrive there on time. Janki is very punctual. She may postpone the marriage if she doesn't find Raghav there on time."

Next Sunday Night

 

"Hello, Mr. Chakraborty. There's good news for you. The meeting in 'Blue Lotus' has gone well. Raghav has been selected."

"Wow, I am so happy. Can we fix the date of marriage now?"

"Of course, we can. Though I want to tell you one important thing before that."

"What?"

"You must have seen that we have mentioned in the ad that we don't have any demand for dowry."

"Yes, I have seen. You and your family are educated, accomplised and progressive. I know you don't believe in the custom of giving dowry."

"Yes, of course. But surely you want to give your daughter-in-law at least something during marriage. But Janki doesn't need any more gold jewelleries. She already has plenty of gold jewelleries. But she never wears those, saying those are gaudy, ornate, old-fashioned."

"So kind of you. Yes, girls of young generation don't like gold jewelleries. Same is the case with my daughter also."

"So I want to tell you that if you genuinely want to gift her something, gift her a diamond necklace with matching earrings. As for the wedding ring, a platinum ring will do. She'll be able to at least wear those in office parties. Otherwise, gold jewelleries lie in bank lockers all the time."

"I'll definitely gift her according to her choice", Dasharath sighed.

Note: The social roles assigned to both genders have been reversed to highlight the overtly patriarchal nature of the institution of marriage, which is biased heavily in favour of men. I believe that in an ideal society, there shouldn't exist any discrimination based on gender, caste, class, religion, language or whatever.

 

Picture credits: Still from Bollywood movie Veere Di Wedding

This post titled "Can Your Son Cook -- What if a girl's dad asked the prospective groom?" has been published on Women's Web as a Featured Post. Featured Posts are a careful selection of highly relevant and interesting posts picked up by the editor's of Women's Web each day. To read the full story, click here.

Simply The Wrong Gender

 

 

 Dehradun, 1927

Ever since Bindubasini's letter had arrived, Chandramukhi's household was aflutter with activities. After all, it's not everyday, not even every year, that she got to see her youngest and dearest sister- Bindubasini, an illustrious doctor of her time. So Chandramukhi strived hard to make all arrangements impeccably. Even her husband, Pandit Keswaranand Mamgain who was otherwise reticent and withdrawn from household chores, was not spared. He took it upon himself to personally supervise all the shopping expeditions to ensure that only the best and fresh from the farm products were procured to welcome his youngest sister-in-law.

Bindubasini would arrive by noon today. In between issuing frantic instructions to servants, Chandramukhi made sure to cook at least one dish herself. She took bath early and was already in the kitchen. Prabha, the cook, handed her the bowl of washed gobindobhog rice. Despite her old age and failing health, Chandramukhi herself was cooking the payesh. 

"Prabha, please wash the raisins and the cashews. Quick. And hand me that container of sugar.", Chandramukhi instructed.

Meanwhile, a commotion was heard outside. The payesh was almost done. Chandramukhi quickly took a spoonful of payesh and placed it in her mouth. The taste was perfect. Bindubasini would surely love it.

"Maa, Bindu didi has arrived", yelled one of the servants from the courtyard. Chandramukhi's wizened face lit up with joy. She hastily put the anchal of her saree on her head and stepped out of kitchen to welcome Bindubasini, her dear Bindu.

*****

It was time for post-lunch patter. Both the sisters lounged on Chandramukhi's bed. The slanting rays of the afternoon sun filtered through the window created chiaroscuro on the bedroom floor.

"How are you didi?", Bindubasini asked gently.

"I can't say I am doing good. My health is failing, you see. What else can you expect at this age of 67 years?"

A gentle breeze was blowing in the valley of Dehradun.

"Tell me something about yourself Bindu. How are you?", asked Chandramukhi affectionately.

"I am also an old woman like you, didi."

Bindu fished out a piece of paper from her bag. "See this, didi. I came across this cartoon when I went to Calcutta this time. I thought I should bring this to your notice." Bindubasini handed the paper to Chandramukhi.

"Wait. I can't read properly now-a-days without putting on my specs." Chandramukhi rummaged her bedside table for her spectacles. Finally, putting her specs on, she looked at the paper. It was indeed a cartoon, though it failed to invoke any humour in her. It showed a woman on her way to work, looking rather ungainly in a saree and a shirt, high heels, and a long umbrella tucked under her arm, titled, " 'Etodin karini tai!' Officer pathe mahila", literally "'Because I haven't done it so far!' A woman on her way to work." The name of one Binoy Kumar Basu was mentioned as the cartoonist.

"Do I need to say anything?", Chandramukhi sighed. "The cartoon says it all about the prevailing attitude in society towards women's education and participation in workforce."

Chandramukhi's mind drifted towards the memory of her girlhood years. The years of so much struggle, anguish and hopelessness. All those finally bore fruit in the form of the sweet fruit of success. And what a success it was!

*****

Calcutta, 1876

She was just sixteen. Young. Naive. Her eloquent eyes gleamed with her desire to make it big in life. And those eyes were now staring at the imposing structure of the Calcutta University in awe. Would she ever be able to walk along those hallowed corridors of knowledge? She had already sought admission for the entrance examination of Calcutta University. Her application, done under the influence of a missionary David Heron, while at Dehradun, created quite a stir in Calcutta's elite society. Women and higher education? How ridiculous!

At that period of time, North Calcutta had seen considerable Bengali Christian academic activities. Chandramukhi's father too came under missionary influence and eventually converted to Christianity at the age of 16. He subsequently moved to Dehradun by taking up teaching responsibilies there. A Bengali-speaking-Christian, she enrolled herself in the Dehradun Native Christian School in 1880.

Calcutta University, 25 November, 1876

A meeting was held for the sole purpose of discussing Chandramukhi's application in the Calcutta University. The University rules only said that "any person with the required qualifications" would be admitted to study, the term 'woman' was not specifically included. A 'person' was automatically taken to mean only one gender in the visible public space. The women simply had no legitimate space in the public sphere.

The meeting started with the Registrar reading in detail the application of Chandramukhi Basu, the dauntless daughter of Bengal. Frantic discussions ensued soon among members of the Calcutta University Syndicate. After a couple of hours, the Registrar's baritone voice reverberated in the hallowed hall, "... (A)ccording to the received interpretation of the Regulations for the examination, I am unable to entertain the girl's application. Yet empathising with the girl's desires for higher education, I have arranged for her being examined privately under the supervision of the Head Master of the Mussourie School, on the understanding that she is not to be considered a registered candidate. In case she passes the examination, her name should not appear in the list of passed candidates."

Poor Chandramukhi. It seemed that all her dreams were shattered just because she was born as the 'wrong' gender. When the news of that fateful meeting arrived to her, how hard she tried to suppress the tears stealing down her cheek. "Will I ever succeed?", she whispered to herself, drenched in the darkness of the night, on the terrace of their house in Calcutta. Darkness was all around. An all-encompassing darkness seemed to envelop her life.

*****

Dehradun, 1927

"You know Bindu, I still appeared for the entrance exam, though I knew in my heart that it was pretty pointless. I was not going to be accepted anyway."

"But you actually topped that exam didi. Not just that, you set a precedence. So many girls were encouraged to apply after you took the first step."

"Yes. I can still vividly remember that time. Even so-called progressive men like Keshub Chandra Sen of 'Adi Brahmo Samaj' maintained that a woman's highest duty was to care for her husband and family. Even in that kind of prevailing social conditions, I managed to come this far. And you too."

"Yes, didi. You have always been my personal role-model. Inspired by your luminous life, I took admission in Calcutta Medical College. You used to tell us, me and Bidhumukhi, that the future belongs to us. That success will be ours in the future."

"Yes. Even today I believe so. If my life has taught me anything, it's this one thing that success will be ours in the future, however distant that future may seem. These morons think that education and career are the exclusive privileges of only one gender. But I do believe that a day will come when women will have equal participation both in higher education and in workforce. That day, those educated women will make fun of people like this cartoonist for their ridiculous, patriarchal, chauvinistic notions. Only you and I will not be there to witness that sweet success of our own gender."

Both the women burst into a fit of laughter.

Glossary: payesh: a Bengali dessert, made with rice and milk.

gobindobhog: a variety of fragrant rice.

Note: The fiasco created by the Calcutta University was rectified the very next year. On 27 April, 1878, the new rules were declared by the Syndicate, "From now on female candidates are allowed to appear for all University examinations." Consequently, a year and a half after she appeared for the examination, Chandramukhi Basu became one of the first two women to enter Calcutta University. The other was Kadambini Ganguly, the first woman to study medicine in India.

Chandramukhi and Kadambini graduated from Calcutta University's famous Bethune College with a BA degree- they were the first women in the British Empire and in India to get college degrees. Chandramukhi Basu ALSO became Empire's first woman postgraduate-degree holder. She taught English at Bethune College as it's first woman lecturer, and some years later, became the principal of the college- the first woman to head one in all of South Asia!

Two of her sisters, Bidhumukhi and Bindubasini, were also renowned. Bidhumukhi Basu, graduating in 1890, was among the earliest women medical graduates from Calcutta Medical College. Thereafter, Bindubasini Basu graduated from Calcutta Medical College in 1891.

This short-fiction, in the form of conversation between Chandramukhi and Bindubasini is purely fictitious and a product of my imagination, though I have tried to present the historical facts as accurately as possible.

Acknowledgements: 

"Unstoppable: 75 stories of Trailblazing Indian Women" by Gayathri Ponvannan.

"Literature, Gender, & the Trauma of Partition: The Paradox of Independence" by Debali Mookerjea-Leonard.

This story is the third winning entry of the March 2020 Muse of the Month contest at Women's Web. Click here to read the full story.